Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Michael's artwork is based on Melissa Harris' Moon
Goddess print. Lyrics are Depeche Mode.
Maria opened her locker and a folded scrap of paper fell to the floor in the school
hallway. Curious, she picked it up and unfolded it. A smile crept across her
face as she read:
Meet me in the art room at lunch. I've got
something for you to look at-- Michael
OK, spaceboy, she thought to herself, now what's
gotten into you? Sighing, she resigned herself to having to sit through classes
until lunchtime, dying to know what Michael was up to. His sociable periods
were few and far between, so she figured she'd better take advantage of this
one. She'd never admit to anyone that it pleased her when he actually acted
like he needed her.
Freestate
I can hear your soul crying
Listen to your spirit sighing
I can feel your desperation
Emotional deprivation
Let yourself go
Let yourself go
Let your feelings show
She watched him through the open door for just a
few moments, enjoying his lithe movements as he worked on a sketch. He was in
his element when he was drawing or painting; he'd taken to art like the
proverbial duck to water, and no one had been more surprised about that than
he. She stepped quietly inside, not wanting to interrupt him, but he must have
sensed her.
"Hi," he said without turning around.
"Hi yourself," she returned, waiting.
He flipped through a sketch pad and extricated a paper. Turning, he thrust it
at her, feigning indifference.
"Here," was his only comment, and then
the real Michael peeked over the stone wall long enough to say, "I wanted
to know what you thought before I painted it." Wandering away, affecting
nonchalance, he began shuffling noisily through the contents of his supply
locker, careful not to look at her.
Maria arched an eyebrow in his direction, amused
by his behavior, and then turned her attention to the paper. It was a sketch of
a dancer under the full moon, gracefully arching back, and though most of the
dancer's face was not visible, Maria recognized herself. She was stunned.
"Michael, I-"
He half turned, still not looking at her.
"You what?"
"This is incredibly thoughtful...it's
wonderful," she wanted to hug him til he couldn't breathe, but she didn't
want to scare him, when getting him to open up even this much was so difficult.
He finally faced her, gently extricating the
paper from her grasp. Turning away to replace it in his sketch book, he said
hesitantly, so softly she almost couldn't hear him, "I remember the way
the moonlight looked on you the night that I..." he trailed off, unwilling
to voice any more, trusting her ability to pick up on his nonverbals. 'cried
myself to sleep in your arms,' both of them finished silently in their minds.
Picking up the conversations
Deep in your imagination
Tune in to the lonely voices
Talking of their only choices
Let yourself go
Let yourself go
Let your spirit grow
"Would you...I mean, will you be at the
Crashdown later?" He made himself very busy fiddling with things in his
locker, so as to avoid her eyes. He was nervous enough as it is without her
direct, clear gaze cutting through him.
She stepped forward, stopping directly behind
him. "Michael," she said his name quietly.
He turned, and she curved her hand around the
back of his head, fingers sliding through his soft hair. "Yes," she
pressed a delicate kiss onto the corner of his mouth and released him, stepping
back. He blinked, rather dazed, and a goofy grin escaped him before he could
suppress it.
Step out of your cage and onto the stage
It's time to start playing your part
Freedom awaits
Open the gates
Open your mind
Freedom's a state
"Good. I mean, maybe I'll see you there,"
he hastily amended, and she frowned at him. "Stop looking at me like that,
I can't keep you out when you look at me like that," he muttered, dropping
his eyes.
I can taste the tears falling
The bitterness that's inside you calling
Yearning for a liberation
Emotional emancipation
Let yourself go
Let yourself go
Let your senses overflow
Maria had the temerity to giggle at his obvious
struggle, and he glared at her. She leaned slowly closer to him, looking up at
him through her lashes with her best smoky bedroom eyes, lips parted as though
she was going to kiss him. To his credit, he stayed perfectly still, dark eyes
fixed on her mesmerizing aqua ones, and just before their lips touched, she
tilted her head back and licked the tip of his nose. Laughing, she scooted out
of his reach towards the doorway as he sputtered and wiped frantically at his
nose. He chased her, and of course she allowed herself to be caught. Pinning
her, he gave her a long stare that thoroughly heated her blood, and then he did
the most surprising thing of all.
He smiled.
Not a sarcastic smile, not a mocking smirk. A
simple smile, with all of Michael there in his eyes for her to see.
And he kissed the tip of her nose, saying,
"I'll see you at the Crashdown," and then left the art room, leaving
her glowing with happiness and floating about a foot off the ground.
Step out of your cage and onto the stage
It's time to start playing your part
Freedom awaits
Open the gates
Open your mind
Freedom's a state